Lucy gives me a sad smile. ‘Don’t you see, Harper? Mrs Bastille nearly lost half the resort in her last divorce. And the one before that cost her a pretty penny. And the one before, and on it goes. Xavier returned to the resort determined to put a stop to men leaching off his mother, leaching in general. He spoke in depth about it to Gus, how his mother only saw the good in people but that always bit her in the end. Knowing that, Gus couldn’t exactly ask for money, could he? He’d already sold his house to pay for the trials and was still left short. And now they have no home, no income.’
‘And his wife, is she doing better?’
Lucy Lou gives me a wobbly smile. ‘The trial is coming to an end, but we haven’t had an update on Anne-Marie’s health. No one really wants to ask in case it’s bad news. We just check in with Gus and tell him we miss him and that we’ll always be here for them both.’
‘The trial was the last chance to save his beloved’s life; no one could begrudge him that. Where can I reach Gus?’
43
I find Xavier, on his phone striding through the gardens near the lagoon. I grab his arm as he turns in surprise. ‘I need to speak to you.’
He points to his phone and mouths, ‘Busy.’
‘Please.’
He rolls his eyes but wraps up his call. ‘Harper, let me guess, you’ve found another solution to a problem that isn’t yours?’
‘Yes! Gus. We need to visit him, and his wife.’
‘What?’ Surprise shines in his eyes.
‘Today.’
He pockets his phone. ‘No. I’m not going to?—’
‘Xavier,’ I say, my voice beseeching. ‘You love that guy like a father. It’s time to put him out of his misery. He’s beating himself up over what he did. You know that, right?’
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘I do know that. When I found out why he did it, I flew straight there, but he wouldn’t see me.’
I put my hands on his marriage-material shoulders and grip hard, desperate to get my point across. ‘So make him see you.’
He gives a quick shake of his head. ‘Make him? No. He’ll come back when he’s ready.’
‘No. He won’t and Turt needs him. You need to visit Gus and make this right.’
‘I don’t want to intrude.’
‘Well, I do.’
I grab his arm and don’t take no for an answer. ‘Mariola’s watching the bookshop, and the three Lucys are hunting for Michel to fly us there.’
We find Michel. Lucy is twisting his ear to convince him to take us to Mahé. I’m not sure if he’s protesting because he doesn’t want to take Xavier, or if it’s because he’s getting his ear bent by a little old lady.
‘Michel!’ I wave. ‘We’re going to see Gus to sort all of this out once and for all.’
The two men stand off. It’s a testosterone-fuelled, glittering-eyed show of alpha-male dominance. ‘Oh, for crying out loud, we don’t have time for any of this macho-man stuff. Let’s get to the helicopter before I lose my nerve.’ I’m not all that keen to fly over a wide expanse of water again, but needs must and all that.
I pull Xavier’s arm and motion Michel to join us.
The daggers they’re throwing at each other is ridiculous. I’ve got half a mind to lecture them about it, but my brain can only cope with one drama at a time.
We get to the helipad. On second thought maybe I should sort this before Michel’s in charge of our safety up in the air so I can be sure he’s not going to fly us into a mountain or anything to get revenge and stop the second resort from being built. Men can be so immature when they butt heads, whereas I find women have more of a tendency to lay out their issues so they can at least be addressed. So that’s what I do.
‘Xavier.’ I turn to him. ‘Michel isn’t happy with you. And I hazard a guess the feeling is mutual, going by the galactic-force glare you’re throwing his way? Can we figure this out before we’re at the mercy of Michel’s flying? God knows, he’s got enough troubles trying to keep the chopper pointing the right way at the best of times, let alone when he’s mad.’
‘Hey! That was your fault for?—’
‘Yeah, yeah. I took a photo. Change the record, Michel. Seriously.’ He shakes his head. ‘Cat got your tongues? This is why men struggle in this world; communication! Lack thereof. Michel, would you like to speak up?’
